


You'll never walk alone

by BaneKicksDavid



Category: Johnny's WEST
Genre: Character Death?, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, past and current relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 20:04:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17669168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaneKicksDavid/pseuds/BaneKicksDavid
Summary: He remembered the days when everything had been normal. Waking up, doing laundry, going to work. Back when a little bit of fog only meant a different weather pattern than what they were used to.





	You'll never walk alone

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first ever fic for the Johnny's West fandom, so I hope that whoever reads this fic will enjoy it. I wrote this for dusk037 in the JE-United exchange, and I had fun with it. I based it off of a weird dream that I had and the world just kinda....expanded from there. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Something didn’t feel right.

Once there had been animals, birds chirping, little critters scurrying in the underbrush, over rubble and buildings. Then nothing. It was as if the world had fallen into silence, any form of life vacating the premise of their surroundings. The earth had spoken to them, those little creatures, ordering them to flee. 

But why?

He kept his eyes trained on the horizon, looking for any sign. Something, anything. He needed a little movement, a flurry, to give him the answers he sought. A little tug on his jacket, sleepy words telling him to come downstairs, get some sleep before they needed to keep moving, but he ignored the gentle words.

Hamada wasn’t sure how long it was. Seconds? Minutes? He had almost thought it was a trick, a mind game. His vision seeking out something that wasn’t supposed to be there, but he tugged out his binoculars anyways, double checking. It didn’t hurt to be certain. 

He remembered the days when everything had been normal. Waking up, doing laundry, going to work. Back when a little bit of fog only meant a different weather pattern than what they were used to.

The days before the change had been a blur. He remembered a few news reports, most not catching his attention, but one in particular had caught his eye. Maybe because Kotaki had seemed so interested in it. It was the story of a woman who had been hospitalized, her stomach rejecting all food it was given. She couldn’t even keep water down. The only hints to what ailed her were little pricks all over her body, as if she had been injected with something multiple times. 

“I wonder who would do that to another human,” Kotaki had murmured, scooting closer to Hamada on the couch, and Hamada cocooned Kotaki into the blanket he was using. It was moments like these that reminded him how naïve and young the other man was, despite being more mature than half the other twenty-two year olds his age. “Doesn’t seem right.” 

Others at the hospital had seemed to catch the infection, injection sites appearing over their bodies, skin turning pale. It was as if a horror film was playing out before their very eyes, a new contagion that news outlets started calling “the stomach virus,” all too eloquently.

He had caught Kotaki’s nervous glances, picked up on his phone calls to his best friend. Seeing old search results calculating the distance from that hospital to their little apartment together. Three hundred miles. How he wouldn’t say it, but Hamada knew Kotaki was worried.

“It’ll be okay,” Hamada said, pulling Kotaki into a hug, stroking careful patterns into his boyfriend’s back. “They’ll find a cure. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

The last thing Hamada remembered watching on TV, before the electricity was cut, was the live news coverage. Reporters on the ground near what they were calling “the epicenter,” the start of it all. The fog that had consumed several buildings in the city and was steadily growing outwards. Helicopters had flown around it, capturing the mass of grey nothing expanding outwards until they flew too close. Engines losing power, careening out of control as they dipped into the darkness, never returning once it was inside it’s grasp. 

Fearful tv reporters told their watching audience what they saw: once you go into the fog, you don’t come back out.

The power didn’t last much longer, chaos erupting inside of their little office. Hamada had grabbed Kotaki, and Kotaki had grabbed Ryusei, not wanting to leave his best friend to fend for himself.

“He won’t live if he’s by himself,” Kotaki had pleaded, the trio weaving their way through people, opting to take the stairs instead of waiting for an elevator that would never come. “What’s one more person?”

So it had been the three of them plus any food and supplies they had managed to scavenge along the way, all crammed into Hamada’s little pick-up truck, Kotaki nestled carefully between Hamada and Ryusei. A few radio stations were still up, giving detailed explanations of where this mysterious fog was, where it was headed, until they inevitably went out. And so did the truck, and they started running away from whatever was chasing them. 

He lowered the binoculars, stuffing them back into his pack before grabbing his things. The fog was back, and, at the pace the swirling grey mass was traveling, they couldn’t stay there for the night.

Kotaki wasn’t happy about it. Hamada had promised beds, something the three of them hadn’t been able to enjoy for what felt like months, but survival came first. 

“I’ll find us a good place to stay,” Hamada said.

“Promise?” Kotaki said, his eyes so wide and innocent despite the dirt that covered his clothing, smudged in places on his face, and it reminded Hamada of how much of an age difference there really was between them. 

“Of course,” Hamada said, kissing his nose. “I promise. I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

And he would.

* * *

 For as long as Ryusei had remembered, it had always been him and Kotaki.

He hadn’t known when it had started really, or how the two of them had met. The younger man had somehow weaseled his way into Ryusei’s life and staked his claim.

“It’s like we were made to be friends,” he remembered Kotaki saying, the brash fourteen-year-old throwing his hands up in the air. “Come on! To get a wish you need a shooting star! It’s perfect!”

Kotaki had always liked the play on their names, the meaning somehow sweet whenever it had come from him. Anyone else Ryusei heard say it, whether it had been his parents or other friends, the words didn’t seem as genuine. As if they had been mocking his friendship, the bond that had been formed because Kotaki had deemed it so.

He really was a brat, Kotaki. There were long summer days, the two of them lounging in Ryusei’s room with the windows and doors thrown open, stripped down as naked as they dared as Kotaki whined about how hot it was. He’d order Ryusei to move, demanding drinks, but neither of them could find the strength to get up, too lethargic from the heat. 

It wasn’t surprising when the two of them fell in love. It had just felt natural. There had been something deeper between them all along, but an epiphany was all it took to set them on course, align them together. Well, it was an epiphany or Kotaki pulling Ryusei aside at his high school graduation, saying how he was finally a man now. Shy kisses that led to more, and Ryusei could feel it in his heart that this relationship was what was supposed to happen. 

They loved each other, that much was certain. Perhaps they had always loved each other, but not all love ends in a happily ever after.

“I’ll always love you,” Kotaki had said that night, one Ryusei thought about more often than not. 

He nodded, a silent agreement before voicing it. “Me too.”

Ryusei didn’t know when they had drifted, their love not as strong as when he was twenty-one, but he would take his friendship over losing Kotaki in his life. Other relationships would come and go, but Kotaki was for forever. No matter how many years went by.

“You know I could see myself settling down with you one day,” Kotaki said one night when they were out at a party together, a few too many drinks in his system. “If…well…” Ryusei saw him glance across the room. “You know.”

Hamada Takahiro. Hama-chan. A graduate student who seemed to have his whole life planned out. He was funny, kind, out-going, the type of person you would be proud to bring home to your mother. Even in the early days of their relationship, Ryusei knew how much the two of them adored each other. 

Perhaps it was hurtful, to have someone that you cared about so deeply admit they could see themselves in a relationship with you. It was just the type of person Kotaki was. The type of relationship he and Ryusei had.

“Ryusei!”

Kotaki’s voice snapped him back to reality, the task at hand more important than silly memories.

The swirling grey mass of fog was gaining on them, the speed it ran across the ground far quicker than any of them could run on foot. They needed something faster, something bigger to catapult them to a safer distance.

Hamada had spotted the bikes, scattered on the ground as if the owners had abandoned them before running off to find their own shelter. There was five of them, enough for a family, and Ryusei bit his tongue to keep from thinking about all of the possibilities, wondering what had happened to them, where they could be…if they were still alive. 

The first one they checked was too small, the perfect size for a seven-year-old. The second had to be for the father, a high seat perfect for someone with a tall height. Kotaki had claimed it easily, and neither Hamada nor Ryusei had protested. The third Hamada took for himself, perhaps an older teen had ridden it. The fourth had been another small bike, but the fifth…the fifth was perfect for Ryusei. 

Until he spotted it. The one fatal flaw. 

A loose chain.

He could almost picture it in his head. The family going out for a ride, everyone stopping because the mother’s chain was slack, her pedals no longer propelling her bike forward. The mass chaos when the fog began, when radio signals still worked, and the nearby cities evacuated in any direction they could travel.

Hamada started working on it immediately, trying to repair the chain, Kotaki keeping watch as the fog slowly descended into the city, fingers twitching with every possible second. 

“We’re not going to make it,” Kotaki said, words coming out in a breath.  
  
“How many more blocks?” Hamada asked, fingers soaked in grease as he continued to try and pop the chain back on.  
  
“Looks like twenty.”

“Nineteen,” Ryusei clarified, the fog continuing to press closer into the city. 

“We’re not going to make it,” Kotaki repeated, breath hitching. “We’re not.” 

“Kotaki.” Ryusei watched his friend freeze, eyes torn away from the oncoming fog, looking to Hamada as he spoke. “Go ahead and start riding. Go straight and ride twenty miles, both of you. I’ll meet up with you when this is done.”  
  
“I’m staying,” Ryusei said, the confidence in his voice shocking even him. “It’s my bike, and I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“If Ryusei is staying then-”

“Kotaki!” Kotaki’s mouth slammed shut at the words, and Ryusei could almost see tears in his eyes. “Go. Save yourself, and I’ll catch up to you.” His words soft, so caring as Hamada continued to speak. “I’ll always keep you safe.” 

It was a silent moment, Ryusei keeping a watch on the coming fog, before Kotaki nodded, getting on his chosen bike and pedaling off in the opposite direction of the fog. 

Only when he was gone, Kotaki’s figure disappearing into the outskirts of the city, did Hamada nudge Ryusei towards the last working bike. “You too.”

“But-”

“No buts,” Hamada said, one of his greasy hands motioning towards the bike. “Get to the edge of the city and give me five minutes. I’ll follow right behind you, and both of us will meet with Kotaki. Okay?”

He didn’t want to go, didn’t want to leave Hamada alone, but he spoke with such confidence… Ryusei believed him. Everything would be okay. The three of them would find a place to set up camp, relax that evening, before continuing to travel as quickly as they could to safety, wherever that was.

“Five minutes.”

“That’s all I’ll need,” Hamada said.

It was a little difficult to ride the bike, the seat a little too short for Ryusei and his long legs, but he made do with it. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

He counted the seconds as he stood there at the city’s edge. He counted a minute and then two. Then four then five and six. Still, Hamada didn’t come. He counted the buildings in the horizon, how many blocks the fog was until it reached the spot Ryusei stood, bike still between his legs. He counted how many hairs were standing on his arms, until his body was screaming for him to run.

The fog… he had never been this close before. The air felt cooler, the temperature dropping with each foot the fog traveled closer. He could see the details, as if something was behind it, coaxing Ryusei to come closer, to step within. The closer it came, the stronger the voices became, stealing his breath, consuming his thoughts.

Come, come, come. Come inside. Come closer, closer. You’ll be safe here. Nothing can hurt you. Nothing at all. Come on. Why won’t you? Everything will be okay.

It was so close, as if he could reach out and touch it, when a shock ran through Ryusei’s body, reminding him of where he was. He had never pedaled so fast in his life, doing anything to keep his mind focused and not on whatever it was that had tried to control him. 

He counted his breaths. Counted how many times his feet spun the pedals around. Thought of how Kotaki’s smile was, how bright it made him look. Thought of how they had always fought to keep the other in their lives, how Kotaki had helped Ryusei get a job at the same company. Kotaki, Kotaki, Kotaki. If he thought of Kotaki, everything would be okay. 

When he finally let himself stop, the fog far behind him, Ryusei let himself relax for a moment. He felt his heart beating a mile a minute as he tried to keep the fear down in his chest. For his whole life, he had never encountered something like that. The fog was inanimate, a weather condition if you could call it that, but it had felt so… 

Alive.

* * *

The horizon was bare, stripped of all visible life, and yet Kotaki continued to watch it, to see something moving along it. 

He closed his eyes, trying to visualize what it would be like to see Hamada and Ryusei again. Their warm smiles, tight hugs, the sweet feeling of relief that they were safe. Both of them were safe. It would come true if you wished hard enough, right?

Jacket pulled close around him, Kotaki wasn’t sure how long he waited. Minutes? Hours? He never stopped watching, looking, waiting…hoping.

He jumped when he saw it, a little mass that reminded him of how the fog swirled, and Kotaki ran for the bike, grabbing it. If it got bigger…he would run. He’d ride as fast and as far as he could take himself, hoping and praying that Hamada and Ryusei could catch up with him. 

But the mass didn’t grow exponentially, taking its sweet time to cross the land. He kept watching, waiting, seeing the outline of someone pedaling a bicycle. Kotaki kept expecting a second to appear, the signal that both of them were coming, but it never did.

The closer the figure came, the more details he was able to decipher from it. The chestnut brown hair, tattered jeans, blue pack, and the more his heart sank, the more he wondered where the other was.

Everything had been okay when he had left. What had happened? Had there been a quarrel? A fight? It wasn’t possible. Not at all. The three of them had gotten along so well, protected each other as if they had been brothers. 

Hell, they had even had a silly nickname for their group, the Hamada Corps, something Kotaki had come up with on a whim one night as they had huddled around a fire. The silly name had made Hamada choke on his food. But Ryusei had agreed whole heartedly, and they had spent the rest of the evening dancing around a fire, creating a silly song as Hamada had looked on, shaking his head at how ridiculous the two of them had been.

Kotaki ran to meet Ryusei when he was closer, within distance, arms pumping to propel him forward. He shouted Ryusei’s name, not caring if there were other people around to hear. It didn’t matter. Ryusei was there. He was safe. 

Ryusei came to a stop, swinging his leg over the bike’s edge and putting down the kickstand as Kotaki approached. He clutched at Ryusei’s biceps, looking him deep in the eyes.

“I…I was worried,” Kotaki said, the words flowing out too quickly, his brain unable to process what he was saying. “I thought something had happened, and I didn’t want to leave without you. Is everything okay? Are you hurt? Where’s Hama-chan?” 

He watched as Ryusei tried to respond, the words on the tip of his tongue, but with every question Kotaki asked, he wasn’t able to start a full answer. But at the last question it closed, and he was no longer able to look Kotaki in the eyes. 

Kotaki had known pain. All of the stupid things he had done as a child, the little adventures he dragged his friend along to. The long healing process for broken bones, for colds, for disappointing people he cared about, he knew that pain. He had a lifetime, a short one, but he had experienced so many forms of pain he wouldn’t wish it upon his worst enemies.

This…this was more powerful than anything he had ever experienced.

It felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest, lungs tight and not taking in as much air as he needed. He didn’t know if he wanted to cry or laugh or throw his fist into the nearest wall, destroy the bones behind his skin. Empty. A good word. His entire body felt hollow, his mind blank. Nothing. Nothing was inside.

He felt Ryusei pull him into a hug, a comforting hand pressed into his lower back. Lips close to the shell of his ear as Ryusei whispered, “I’m sorry,” into it. 

Kotaki couldn’t remember the last time he had cried, truly cried. Not from laughing so hard the tears fell easily, his heart filled with joy. How he only continued to laugh each time a new joke was told, a new impression, anything. The beautiful smile, crinkled eyes, as Hamada laughed along, full of joy that Kotaki had enjoyed his jokes.

Hama-chan.

He didn’t know what controlled him in that moment, the need for intimacy, for love, any form of comfort, but he pulled back from that hug and took Ryusei’s face into his hands. It was a soft kiss, a gentle kiss. Something that felt so familiar. Like waking up on a Saturday morning to find the love of your life sleeping in bed next to you, the need to kiss them consuming you whole. 

It didn’t last long, enough to mend Kotaki’s heart to breathe again. He pulled Ryusei back into a tight hug, holding him close. “Thank you,” he whispered, squeezing his friend tightly.

He was glad Ryusei didn’t say anything in response, merely held onto Kotaki even tighter.

The fog stayed at bay the next few days, the two of them able to cover more ground on their bikes then they had been able to on foot. There was a silence between them, and Kotaki couldn’t find it in him to say a word. He knew Ryusei would wait, he always did. He never pressured Kotaki to talk if he didn’t want to.

They found an open house, the previous owners having left it open in their flight, and locked themselves in for the night. There were enough candles to create a sea in the living room, the two carefully crafting a fort to sleep in that night, not wanting to claim the beds for their own.

“I wonder,” Kotaki said, breaking their days long silence, “I wonder what happens when you go into the fog. Like if you…you know.”

He watched Ryusei’s face, his careful consideration before he spoke. “Maybe it’s better in there,” he said, voice soft. “Like full of sunshine and rainbows. Maybe it’s a new start?”

“I don’t think there’s a lot of light in there,” Kotaki said. “It looks so…so dark whenever I see it from afar.”

“Ah, yeah.” Ryusei nodded.

There was something Ryusei wasn’t telling him, that much was for certain. The hollowed look in his eyes, the flames dancing across his vision only highlighting his deep thought, as if he was remembering something so horrifying, so terrifying, he couldn’t speak of it.

“Did you see him?” Kotaki asked, a surge of confidence pouring through him. “When he died?”

“There’s something about that fog that doesn’t feel…right,” Ryusei said, his vision never turning from the flames. “The closer it gets…I want to believe the best, Non-chan.” He sighed. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

And it was the last hey mentioned Hamada or the fog.

Under their fort, buried under blankets, Kotaki woke up cold the next morning. He had experienced cold before, the dead of winter, needing three or four layers to feel toasty. The icy bite of frost nipping at his extremities as he bit his lip to keep from making a sound. This cold…was different. It felt as if he would never be warm again. 

He crawled through the fort, trying not to wake Ryusei to see what was the cause of it…and screamed when he found it. 

They only had enough time to dress, not bothering to grab anything except whatever was crammed inside of their packs. The fog had gained on them, too much, and there were only a few houses between them and being totally consumed.

Bikes, bikes, bikes, Kotaki’s mind screamed at him as he ran. Make it to the bikes and you’ll be fine. Bikes could outrun the fog. Bikes would save them both. Over the uneven terrain, following behind Ryusei to where they had left the bikes the night before. Ten strides, nine, eight until they reached-

His foot landed on something. Kotaki wasn’t sure what, but he felt something in his ankle crack and he tumbled to the ground. Pain, searing pain, and when he tried to stand, put pressure on it, he only collapsed to the ground, gasping.

“Non-chan!” 

A hand on his arm, trying to tug him up, but Kotaki only swatted it away.

“Get out of here!” he snapped, trying to push Ryusei away. 

“We’ve already lost Hama-chan,” Ryusei said, his grip not slacking on Kotaki’s arm. “I’m not losing you, too!”

“I’ll be fine,” Kotaki said, trying to pry Ryusei’s hand off of him. “Maybe…maybe you’re right. Maybe the inside of that thing is better than we thought.” He gave a smile he hoped would convince his friend to go, even if they both knew Ryusei’s words the night before were only to sooth Kotaki, make him believe Hamada was okay somewhere. “I’ll be okay. Just…save yourself.” 

They could feel it, the fog slipping closer. The bitter cold slowly consumed the area around them until Ryusei gave in with a bitter nod, and Kotaki watched him go until he collapsed onto the grass beneath him. 

This…this was the end, wasn’t it? This was where his life stopped, and as much as he had boasted about it, strong words for a young man, he couldn’t look death in the face. He felt the cold surround him, slipping through his mouth, entering his blood. 

His life didn’t flash before his eyes like he thought it would, the story of everything he had gone through being quickly relived. He thought about Ryusei, his friend. How they had met and their friendship had stayed through all of the years. He thought about Hamada. His soft words, his kindness, and everything they had built together. Kotaki hoped he would get to see him once he had passed, get to hear his voice again.

“Kotaki!”

His eyes shot open. It…it couldn’t be…could it?

He felt something tug him from behind, setting him on his knees before he felt a solid body behind him, hugging him tight. 

“Kotaki, I found you!” Hamada’s voice was still as sweet as he remembered, his head nuzzling into Kotaki’s neck as he spoke. 

“Hama-chan, you’re…you’re not dead,” he choked out, tears welling from his eyes. Ryusei had been right somehow. Maybe it wasn’t that bad in here.

“I’m not,” his voice soft, his touch so light against Kotaki’s skin, warming him. “I’ve been searching for you for days. I can’t believe I found you.” 

He couldn’t help but smile. Hamada cared, he did. Enough to try and find him. “Did you get the chain on that bike?"

“Mmmm, nope,” Hamada hummed, hands continuing to explore Kotaki’s naked arms, his neck. “I ran all the way here. It’s why it took me so long. Every time I thought I was close, you kept running away. I was quite sad, so I ran all night to meet you again.” 

Everything felt so good, so nice, when Hamada touched him, their surroundings melting away the more he talked, fingers never leaving Kotaki’s body. He skirted the edge of Kotaki’s shirt, and he only longed for more. More contact, more touches, more words. He only wanted to hear that voice he had been craving, dying to hear for days.

“But then I saw you fall, and Ryusei left you,” Hamada continued, voice like honey. “I didn’t understand why. Why did he leave you alone? He should have stayed and helped you.”

“I told him to go,” Kotaki choked out, his skin tingling as Hamada’s lips hovered by his neck. “I…I wanted him to live.”

“But don’t you want to see him again?”

A little nudge, and he felt Hamada rise behind him, beckoning Kotaki to follow him. He wanted to speak out, to tell Hamada there was no way that he could stand. He had seen Kotaki fall, injure himself, and yet he still asked Kotaki to stand. Despite his inner protests, Kotaki rose anyway. 

He gasped. “I…my ankle?”

“See? You’re fine,” Hamada said, fingers interlacing with Kotaki’s own. Kotaki’s skin continued to tingle, to burn. More. He wanted more. “We need to find Ryusei and tell him you’re okay. Why don’t you run after him? I’m sure you can catch him. He hasn’t gone far now.”

“But…what if you’re gone when I get back?” he asked.

Kotaki felt something warm on his neck, pricking his skin, and he let out a moan before snapping his mouth shut, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. He…he hadn’t expected that sort of reaction, but when he went to focus on his neck, figure out what that could have been, all he felt was Hamada’s lips leaving his skin, a chaste kiss.

“I’ll be here when you return,” Hamada said, voice so sweet Kotaki couldn’t help but believe him. “I won’t move a muscle. Now, go. Find Ryusei, so we can be together. All three of us.

“Forever.”

So he ran, going as fast as his feet would take him, passing by houses in a fast jog. But…it didn’t feel right. Faster…he could go faster, couldn’t he? His body felt like it could take it. Faster, until the houses he passed by were going by quicker than he had ever run. Faster, until everything around him felt like a blur. Faster, a blue streak coming across his vision, and he knew. Kotaki knew it had to be Ryusei.

He followed it, never straying from the path as it weaved through neighborhoods, over abandoned intersections. Faster and faster until he saw him, Ryusei, blue backpack bouncing on his back as he pedaled his heart out, checking over his shoulder as he tried to push himself to go faster.

Kotaki cocked his head to the side as he ran, trying to catch up with his friend. That fearful look in Ryusei’s eye, what did it mean? Was he confused how Kotaki could run so quickly now? It was strange how he could keep up with the speed of a bicycle, but he paid it no mind. Ryusei was here! He was within sight. Just a little more, a little faster, and he would be within grasp.

A little more, and they could be together. A little more, and they could laugh like they always had. When it had just been the two of them and then when Hamada joined their little group. A little more and they could make jokes. A little more, and this chase would end.

He was there, within Kotaki’s grasp, and he could taste Ryusei’s skin on his fingertips already. Kotaki reached out to grab him. 


End file.
